


Finding a Way Back

by comebacknow



Category: 9-1-1 (TV)
Genre: M/M, Mention of blood, a mini flashback, i'm making her into someone we actually want and deserve, idk what else to tag i suck at this, listen i took liberty with lena's character, mention of bruises, not a lot just a sentence or two, the return of cat laxative
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-28
Updated: 2019-10-28
Packaged: 2021-01-05 21:14:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21215180
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/comebacknow/pseuds/comebacknow
Summary: After Buck is reinstated at the 118, he notices something's been off about Eddie. While trying to prove himself to his team and his captain again, he realizes he's not the only one fighting his mistakes.





	Finding a Way Back

**Author's Note:**

> Here's a mess! Enjoy.

In retrospect, he should have seen this coming.

But generally, Buck tries to be a positive person – glass half full and all that. _“Cheer up, Mads!”_ he’d say at an old, chipped kitchen table. _“Things can only go up.”_

So, yeah, Buck has always been the positive one. Even in his darkest times – the times he doesn’t like to dwell on (days spent cloaked in the shadow of his apartment, a four-day old hoodie with sleeves pulled over balled fists as blunt nails press into his palms; nights that seemed like a reprieve from sounds of life that burst through his window and instead replace them with a chilling wind that snakes around his bones and reminds him that the world is nothing but cold) – he still manages to take a breath, to remind himself that even the darkness eventually drips down to reveal the light of day and through it all: he is alive. And that’s something he holds on to.

But some days are harder than others.

\--

“I want to die,” Buck grits.

“Oh come on,” Chimney laughs, snapping gum as he smiles little crescent moons across the firehouse’s kitchen, “you act like we’re putting you through Army bootcamp.”

“From what Eddie’s told us, that might actually be better,” Hen chirps in as she steps around him to dispose another dish into the sink at Buck’s hands 

“Seriously?” he tilts her head at her. “I thought hazing was supposed to happen for the new recruits.”

“What?” Hen shrugs. “We all went through it. You’re just,” she waves her hand in the air, “going through it a bit backwards is all.”

“Yeah,” Chimney adds. “No more skating by for old Buckaroo.”

Buck narrows his eyes at him. “Since when have I skated by?”

Chimney and Hen exchange a knowing look that Buck really doesn’t care to dive into – not that he has to, because they’ve taken it upon themselves to explain anyway.

“Taking the trucks out to pick up girls?”

“Getting victim’s phone numbers while on the job?”

“Giving _your_ number to victims while on the job?”

“Flirting with the medic and distracting him that time he stuck a needle in the wrong vein?”

“Going on a job without your helmet because you left it a girl’s car?”

“Okay, okay, I get it!” Buck holds his hands up. “We’ve gone over this. I’m not that guy anymore.”

“No,” Hen agrees. “You’re the guy who tried to sue all of us and now you’re being punished for it.”

“Exactly,” Chimney laughs. “You, uh, you missed a dish there, by the way.”

Buck gives him a look he hopes conveys his clear feelings on him right now, and turns back to the last dish in the sink. He washes it up and deposits it in the strainer and frowns. “Why are there only five dishes here?”

Hen raises a brow. “Did you want more? I’m sure I could ask around and see if anyone wants seconds.”

“No, Hen. There’s five dishes.” Buck repeats, and then points to each one as he lists: “Me, Cap, you, Chim and Lena.”

Hen shakes her head. “I’m a bit lost here.”

Chimney frowns. “Are we gonna ignore the fact that Buck knows which dishes are whose?”

Buck waves Chimney off. “I saw every person who handed them off to me. Where’s Eddie’s?”

Hen shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe he wasn’t hungry.”

“The same guy who benches three-ten and spends his afternoon punching a hundred-fifty pound bag wasn’t hungry?”

“Again,” Chim holds a finger up, “weird that you know these things.”

“Maybe he ate at home?” Hen shrugs.

“No,” Buck shakes his head as he dries his hands off on a spare towel. “No.” He tosses the towel and steps between the two of them, ignoring their odd exchanged glance, and makes his way down the stairs toward the gym area.

“C’mon, c’mon, four more,” Eddie says, hands just below a bar that Lena pushes up above her.

Buck feels a muscle feather in his jaw, but waits.

“Alright, three, let’s go, you got this,” Eddie is saying.

Buck folds his arms and looks off across the firehouse.

“Nice, come on, Bosko. Two more.”

_Bosko?_ Buck snorts. Since when do any of them use their last names?

“One more, c’mon, give me one more.”

Buck scratches at his neck and stares up at the ceiling.

“Alright!” Eddie claps his hands together as the clang of the weight on its bar echoes through the firehouse. “Killed it!”

“Thanks to you,” Lena exhales.

Buck fights a roll of his eyes as he waits impatiently for them to finish their session.

“Uh,” Lena continues softly, and then coughs quietly. “I’ll, uh, I’m gonna go… get some water.”

Buck finally lets his gaze fall back to them to see Lena pull her own from him and duck her head as she walks past toward the kitchen.

Eddie straightens at the weight bench and stares back at Buck wordlessly.

“Uh, hey,” Buck begins, lamely.

Eddie’s face doesn’t change; the only movement comes from his eyes which shift to the side quickly and back to Buck. He doesn’t answer – only waits for Buck to continue.

“Um,” Buck continues. He steps forward to close the distance. “Look, I was just up-” He stops when he notices Eddie take a step back from his advance. “Uh, I… I was just… upstairs. I was cleaning up from dinner.”

Eddie just continues to look at him, no expression to give away his thoughts.

Buck tightens his hand around his other fist where they rest in front of him to keep him from reaching out and shaking words out of Eddie. “Uh, I noticed I didn’t get yours.”

Eddie blinks.

_Well, at least he’s alive,_ Buck thinks.

“I didn’t have one,” Eddie finally says and then turns back to the loose weights off to the side, scanning for what he wants.

“Uh, right. Right.” Buck takes a few steps closer to him. “But see, that’s the thing. I didn’t get anything from you earlier from lunch and again now.”

Eddie finds his weights and shifts toward the mirror to start his reps.

“Um,” Buck continues, searching his head for words. “Did you… did you eat out somewhere? Or-”

Eddie flinches at the weight as he lifts it in a curl. “Does your new position require you to monitor eating habits of your colleagues?”

“I – my new position?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says and then shifts his gaze to meet Buck’s in the mirror. “I don’t necessarily know if Team Traitor is the official title, but I can appreciate the alliteration of it. Can’t you?” He looks back at his arm as he continues his reps.

Buck furrows his brow at Eddie’s reflection. “Eddie, I didn’t – I wasn’t doing this to hurt you guys. You know that, right? I need you to know that.”

“But you did,” Eddie says, a bit louder. He turns then to face Buck and exhales. “You did hurt us. All of us. Do you know what Cap said when he sat us down to tell us what happened?”

Buck shifts his weight on his legs and shakes his head.

“He said ‘hey guys, I have some bad news. Buck is suing the department for firing him,’ and we all thought it was a joke. Some sort of prank.” Eddie narrows his eyes just slightly and then continues. “Hen was the first one to realize Cap wasn’t kidding.”

There’s a pounding in his chest that grows in rapid succession that Buck tries not to focus on.

Eddie watches him for a moment before he continues. “I was the last.”

The pounding in Buck’s chest stops momentarily as the words click into place.

Eddie laughs something dry that doesn’t meet his eyes. “You know, it’s funny. I sat there like an idiot and defended you.” He puts the weight down and steps forward toward Buck. “I looked at all three of them and insisted that it wasn’t true – that there was no _way_ you’d do that to us. And I mean, I know we haven’t known each other that long – but I know you, Buck. I know who you are.”

Buck works to fight the urge to take a step back as Eddie continues to step toward him.

“I said that there was no way you would turn your back on us and try to ruin our careers for your own benefit.”

“Eddie, I-”

“No, no,” Eddie holds up a hand to silence him. “Your lawyer already let us know all of your thoughts on the situation. I think it’s time you hear mine.”

“Eddie,” Buck sighs, but doesn’t have much in plan to continue. 

“Did you think about what would happen to all of us if you won?”

“I only wanted my job back,” Buck reminds him.

“Yeah,” Eddie nods. “Yeah, you only wanted what was best for you.”

Buck feels a muscle tense in his jaw again as he fights to keep down a million excuses.

“Well, it's not always just about you. Grow up, Buck,” Eddie finishes and then snatches his towel from one of the benches before taking off toward the locker room.

Buck doesn’t bother to turn and follow him. He doesn’t know what he’d say if Eddie decided to listen, anyway.

“Hey.”

Buck’s brow furrows at the voice and he slowly turns to find Lena standing behind him. He stares at her and waits for her to continue.

“Listen, I know it’s not my place, but-”

“Yeah, you’re right. It’s not your place.”

Her brows shoot up as she watches him.

“And neither is this. Why are you even still here? What? Did your team not want you anymore? Figured you’d just waltz in here, take over my locker, my rank, my team?” He swallows down the unspoken _my family?_

Lena watches him again for a moment as she chews her lip and then simply nods. “He said you were like this with him, too.” She says it almost to herself, rather than for Buck to hear.

“What?”

“Listen, you can give me a hard time all you want. That’s fine. I get it. But I’m not here to replace anybody.”

“Then why are you here?" 

“Cap asked-”

“Captain Nash,” Buck corrected her.

She works her mouth over something unspoken and then continues. “Captain Nash requested I join rank. Said they could use the extra hands. My team was displaced and I couldn’t move to follow them.”

“Why not? Isn’t the whole point of what we do loyalty?”

“Oh, are you gonna educate me on loyalty now? After you just tried to sue your whole team?”

“Why am I even talking to you right now?” Buck shakes his head and moves to step around her, but she shifts and gets in front of him again.

“Look, I don’t care what you think about me, or how you treat me or talk to me. I have nothing to prove to you. But him?” She points behind her toward the locker room. “That’s your best friend and he’s _hurting_, Buck.”

“Yeah, well, not that it’s any of your business, but I tried apologizing and he’s not having it-”

“Fuck your apology, Buckley,” she shakes her head. “That’s not actually what he needs from you – what he needs is his best friend. Do you have any idea what he’s gone through over the past week?”

“No, because he won’t talk to me.”

“Have you asked?”

“How am I supposed to ask when I can barely get two words out around the guy?”

Lena shrugs. “Seems like he was willing to listen a few minutes ago before you started going on about washing dishes or whatever the hell you thought was important enough to actually ask about.”

Buck holds a hand up to her and steps around her finally. “Okay, we’re done talking.”

“So are you and Diaz, it seems,” she sighs under her breath.

Buck turns and furrows his brow at her. “For the record, he doesn’t like being called _Diaz_. So if you’re trying to apply for some position as his best friend or whatever it is you want from him – maybe start there.”

She laughs lightly. “I’m not here to be his best friend. I thought that was what you were meant to be doing.”

Buck bites down on his tongue.

“But if you’ve given up enough that he keeps coming to me, maybe that’s on you,” she shrugs.

Buck doesn’t think he’s ever cleaned a truck in his life. And then he thinks that maybe this is what Hen and Chimney were talking about. He was always able to charm someone else into doing the grunt work – when he was even given grunt work.

He drags the rag in another circle and then his eyes catch on a vague reflection in the red steel of the truck. He turns to see Chimney fixing his hair. 

“Hmm, could use a bit more polish.”

“Your face? Yeah, I agree.”

“Funny,” Chim levels with him. “Have you heard from Maddie today?”

“No,” Buck shrugs. “She’s your girlfriend.”

“She’s your sister.”

“Maybe she’s ghosting you. Have you tried calling 9-1-1?” He perks his voice up to mock a phone call: “’hello, yes, I have an emergency. I can’t go three minutes without talking to my girlfriend because I have no life.’”

“Yeah, that’s funny,” Chim nods with his hands on his hips. “Anyway, have you seen Eddie around?”

Buck furrows his brow and tries not to focus on the unspoken transition in conversation. “No.”

Chimney just smiles and pops his gum before he walks off.

“What the…?” Buck shakes his head.

“Buckley!”

Buck spins and raises his brow at Bobby in question.

“Just got a call. Feel like getting your feet wet again?”

Buck blinks. “Wait, seriously?”

Bobby grins and nods.

“Uh, yeah. Yeah! Hang on, I’ll get my gear!”

“Oh yeah,” Bobby laughs. “You’re gonna need all of it.”

Buck drops the rag into the bucket of soapy water and takes off across the firehouse. Maybe things were looking up. Maybe he could prove himself to his team again.

“Seriously?” Buck asks, head tilted as he squints up against the sun.

“What?” Bobby counters, innocently. “Every emergency is just as important as the next.”

Buck looks sideways at Bobby and then back up to the tree where a cat growls at the branch that’s got a hold on its back paw. Buck sighs and drops the clear visor down from his helmet over his eyes.

About eight minutes later he’s set up the ladder, climbed up it, gently crawled across the branch and is now holding a hand out at the cat and telling it everything was gonna be alright. This is what his life has come to.

“Hey Buck!” Bobby calls from below.

Buck leans his head over to look down.

“Smile!”

Buck holds a gloved finger up at the phone and looks back at the cat. “Maybe you should stay up here. Away from everyone, y’know? People kinda suck.”

The cat growls at him.

“Yeah, get in line buddy. Everyone hates me these days.” He reaches out toward the branch that is folded over the cat’s back paw.

The cat hisses at him and swats at him with a free paw.

“Do you want me to help you or not?” he snaps at it. He turns to look up to where the branch had snapped halfway from it place on the trunk and thus collapsed on top of the bottom branch, sandwiching the victimized paw. “Bobby!” he calls down. “I’m gonna need to saw this top branch off!”

“Don’t have a saw!” Bobby calls up.

Buck stares at him. “Are you serious right now?”

Mae snorts next to Bobby.

Buck shakes his head and looks back at the cat. “I don’t know why Athena agreed to them adopting you if you were just gonna hide in a tree all day.”

The cat licks a free paw.

Buck sighs. He braces a hand beneath the branch and looks at the cat. “I’m going to lift this. Don’t attack me.”

“Don’t drop the cat, Buck!” Bobby calls up.

“Yeah, Buck!” Mae calls up. “I don’t want it to get hurt.”

Buck looks back at the cat. “Did they put you up to this just to spite me?”

The cat blinks at him.

“You can tell me if you’re in an abusive home, you know.” He shifts his weight to balance himself on the branch and looks along the branch to find a good place to try to lift it. “Some people… they like to try to-” he tries to budge the branch but it just barely shifts.

The cat hisses at him.

He eyes it before looking down the branch again. “They like to use things to their own advantages to teach people lessons. And those people don’t even _need_ to learn these lessons. So, really, it’s all pointless. And now you’re up here with a possible broken paw,” he tilts his head to get a better look at the paw. “Yeah, we’ll be getting you to a vet after this.”

The cat swats a paw toward him but it only hits the branch and its nail gets stuck. It yowls.

“Okay, you see what happens when you try to fight people who are helping you?”

“Buck! What’s going on up there?” Bobby calls up.

“Karma!” he shouts back down. He turns back to the cat and wrestles with it to get its claw free from the branch. The cat gnaws a bit on his glove. Buck frees the claw and steals his glove back. “Okay, this is what’s going to happen. I’m gonna lift this branch, and you’re not gonna freak out and fall out of the tree, okay?”

The cat blinks away from him and eyes a bee. 

“Don’t swat the bee.”

The cat continues to watch the bee.

“I swear to god, cat. Do not. Swat. The bee.”

The cat swats the bee.

Luckily, he misses, but all it means is that he stretched forward and pulled at his crushed paw and now he’s yowling again 

“Buck?” Bobby calls.

“That’s it,” Buck sighs. He lunges forward and wraps an arm around the cat’s middle – which immediately earns him a paw to the visor – and pushes his back up against the branch to lift it.

The cat’s back paw springs free and it’s immediately flailing in his arm. “Stop, stop, stop!” He scrambles to trap the cat with both arms while he straddles the branch.

He sees a flash from the corner of his eye and looks down to see Bobby laughing with his phone in the air. “Yeah, I’m glad this is funny for you!” Buck calls down. “I’m keeping this cat after this. You’re an abusive pet owner.”

Buck shifts across the bench as much as he can while keeping a hold on the cat and finally makes it back to the ladder. He sighs, frustrated. “I’m gonna regret this.” He stuffs the cat into his jacket quickly, zips it up around him, and then quickly scurries down the ladder to the truck.

He unzips his jacket and spills the cat onto a small medical bed and watches as the vets take him into the truck and spin off toward the clinic. He turns to Bobby. “Was that necessary?”

“For the record,” Bobby holds up a hand, “none of that was on purpose.”

“She really did get stuck in the tree,” Mae defends.

“Yeah, well, keep a better eye on her,” Buck says flatly, pulling his gloves off.

“Oh,” Mae frowns. “She’s not ours.”

Buck looks up at her and then Bobby. “Wait, what?”

“Mom would never allow that,” she laughs.

“She’s a stray,” Bobby shrugs. “Comes to the backyard to drink milk, lounge in the sun,” he smirks, “climb the trees.”

“You called me for a stray?”

“I called you for help,” Bobby corrects him. “You saved that cat’s life.”

“Riveting,” Buck sighs. “I’ll be sure to call the press immediately.”

“Thank you,” Mae says quietly. 

Buck turns to her. Something blossoms in his chest at the look of relief on her face. “Yeah,” Buck nods. “Well,” he looks up at Bobby. “Thank _you_. I guess.”

“Welcome back to the team, Buck,” Bobby nods. “Now get over to the truck and get those scratches looked at.”

“I can’t believe you’re actually buying this on purpose now,” Chim snorts.

Buck flips the box of cat laxative over and squints at the back of it. “I told you I was thinking about getting a cat.”

“Right. You were thinking of adopting a stray cat with a broken paw and constipation.”

“Gotta prepare for these things, Chim,” Buck shrugs and tosses the cat laxative into the basket. “Never know what you’re gonna run into.”

Because life is a cruel mistress that likes to play Buck like a fiddle, he turns the corner and walks directly into Eddie.

“Smooth,” Chimney murmurs behind him. “Hey Eddie!”

“S’up, Chim?” he nods at him, still grimacing from where Buck apparently rammed into his side, and then shifts his gaze. “Buck.” He turns back to the row of cereal.

“Um, hey,” Buck says. “What are you doing here?”

Eddie turns to him and then looks around the grocery market before lowering a brow at Buck again. “Food shopping.”

“Right,” Buck reasons. “That… That makes sense.”

Chimney snorts. “I’m gonna go grab a bottle of wine for Maddie.”

“Where’s, um, Christopher?” Buck continues, barely noticing Chimney walking off.

“At school,” Eddie says, crouching a bit to eye the next row.

“Right,” Buck nods again. “That…also makes sense.”

“Yeah,” Eddie glances up at him. “Some of us like to do things that make sense.”

Buck lets out a small laugh. “I guess I deserve that.”

“What you deserve,” Eddie starts as he finally picks out a box of Rice Krispies and puts it in the cart, “is a longer suspension and hazing era.” He turns to Buck and shrugs. “Or maybe just a foot up your ass.”

Buck sighs. “Eddie, look. Can we talk?”

“We’re talking now,” Eddie turns and pushes the cart down the aisle.

Buck follows him. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how much I can apologize.”

“I’ll let you know when you’ve hit your limit.”

Buck rolls his eyes at Eddie’s back. “Will you let me see Christopher? Maybe bring him by the apartment? I’ve got this cat – he’d love her, Eddie. Her name is Shamrock, but I call her Rocky – cuz it’s a bit more badass. She’s pretty badass because she’s got this broken paw, but she’s still so good on it. And she’s got these big green eyes-”

“Are you saying my kid would love her because she’s also disabled?” Eddie asks, stopping in the middle of the aisle and turning to him. 

Buck gapes at him. “What? What? Eddie, no! No, I’d nev- no!” Buck shakes his head. “Eddie, you know I never-”

“I’m messing with you, Buck,” Eddie nods, a small lightness to his eyes. “That’s what friends do, right? Mess with each other?”

Buck feels his brows twitch upward slightly. “Friends?”

“Well, yeah.”

Buck struggles to take a deep breath without looking like he’s just ran an Olympic race.

“I mean, we’re friends, right? Even if you pissed me off and pulled some dumb shit?”

Buck blinks and swallows. “Yeah. Yeah, no, of course we are.”

Eddie eyes him a minute longer like he’s skeptical about something. “I’ll bring him by around six.”

Buck’s chest breaks open as if a field of daisies just popped through on the first day of Spring. “Okay. Great. Yeah. That’s great. I’ll… I’ll pick up some food to cook before then.”

Eddie nods slowly. “Good thing we’re in a grocery store.”

“Right,” Buck gestures around them. “I’ll… I’ll pick up food right now." 

Eddie’s face is still skeptical, but his mouth quirks up in a small smile, and Buck decides he’ll count that as a win.

“Maybe I should’ve grabbed two bottles of wine,” Chimney sighs, suddenly next to them.

When there’s finally a knock on the door, Buck springs up from the couch and reaches the door in the blink of an eye. He allows himself one breath before he’s opening it and smiling down at Christopher.

“Hey Buck!”

“Hey, buddy!” He puts an arm around Chris’ shoulder as Christopher wraps one around his waist. “Television’s already on your favorite channel.” And then he turns to Eddie. “Dinner will be ready in just a few more minutes. I, uh, I wasn’t sure what you guys would want.”

Eddie snaps his gaze from where he’d been watching Christopher meander toward the couch and lands it on Buck. 

“I know Christopher loved those chicken fingers last time, so I got those. But then I thought, y’know, maybe you guys had them last night? So, I picked up some mac and cheese for him too. And I have, like, other food, too. Check it out, I even made a…” his voice trails, “a salad…” He stops talking then.

Eddie’s face has tightened, not quite a grimace but on the verge of one. “Uh, Buck…”

Buck’s heart begins to pound inside of him, but he doesn’t allow the sentence to full form in his head until –

“I’m not staying." 

– Eddie says it first. 

“Sorry if there was confusion there.”

Buck blinks to focus himself and forces words out. “No. No, of course. No, I know.”

“It’s just that, this is for Christopher, y’know?”

“Yeah,” Buck nods on autopilot. “Yeah, I know.”

“Alright.” Eddie at least has the decency to look a little guilty.

“Yeah,” Buck nods and lets out a long breath. “I was just, y’know, I was just letting _you_ know… what – what _we_ were having. You know, in case you were curious. I feel like that’s something you’d want to know.” Buck chews his lip. “You’d want to know what I was feeding Christopher,” he finishes lamely.

Eddie opens his mouth, but seems to second-guess whatever it was that he was going to say and just nods with a tight smile. He rolls a backpack off of his shoulder and hands it to Buck.

Buck takes the backpack by the shoulder strap and drops his hand to his side. “Thanks.”

Eddie nods again and leans forward to peer into the living room. “Te amo, mi cielo, I’ll see you later, okay?”

“Bye, Dad,” Christopher smiles back with a toothy grin and then turns back to the television.

“Buck,” Eddie says, by way of farewell.

“Yeah,” Buck answers.

He’s left staring at his closed door, backpack dangling from his hand as he thinks to himself _well, what did you expect?_

Dishes are washed and Christopher is already in pajamas by the time Buck’s phone finally vibrates in his pocket. He shifts on the couch, careful not to wake Christopher nor Rocky (who is currently snoozing in Christopher’s lap), and checks his text.

**From: Eddie Diaz, 12:06a**

On my way

Buck reads it over again. Part of him wants to know. Part of him is clawing at his chest and trying to find the right strings to pull to make his fingers dance across his screen to write out _where have you been?_ But the other part of him – the bigger part of him – curls up in the far, dark corner and shakes its head as it reminds him: _it’s not your business_.

He locks his phone and tosses it onto the couch next to him. He should wake Christopher, and he considers it briefly, but he knows he has some time. How much time is what he doesn’t know, because he doesn’t know _where_ Eddie is. He picks up his phone again and opens the messages before he locks it again. _Relax, Buck. It’s not your business._

He carefully slides out from beneath Christopher and quickly replaces himself with a pillow for Christopher to lean on. He stands and stretches and starts to gather Christopher’s belongings into his backpack. He greedily decides he’ll keep the drawing of Rocky. It’s _his_ cat, after all. Why should Eddie have that drawing? Why would Eddie _want_ that drawing?

Buck presses the drawing to the fridge and all but slams a magnet against it. His house, his cat, his drawing.

He packs the rest of Christopher’s bag and is just about to wake him when there’s a soft knock at his door. Buck glances back at Christopher and then turns to walk to the door. He pulls it open to see Eddie leaning on the side with his hood pulled up.

“Where’s Chris?" 

Buck blinks. “Um, he’s on the couch. I was just about to wake him, but I know last time, you said it was easier for you to keep him sleeping.”

Eddie looks at Buck.

From beneath the shadows that the hood casts over him, Buck can make out the look that says _last time?_ He pushes away the fact that _last time_ Christopher stayed at his house was nearly three weeks ago.

Eddie steps past Buck into the house and brings with him an odd smell of rust and sweat. Buck wonders if he spent hours at the gym again. Buck remembers it’s none of his business.

“Um, hi, by the way,” Buck says as he closes the door. And then it’s out of his mouth before he can stop it: “where were you?”

Eddie turns back to him just before he reaches Christopher. “I was taking care of stuff.”

“Stuff – what stuff?”

“Stuff.” Eddie turns back to Christopher and stops suddenly. “Is that a cat?”

“It’s Rocky,” Buck answers and then shakes his head. “Eddie, what were you taking care of until almost one o’clock in the morning?”

“I texted you at midnight, Buck.” He swats his hand near the cat and then pulls it back quickly as the cat slowly blinks awake with a low growl.

Buck steps around Eddie and scoops up Rocky with one hand and gently puts her down on the arm rest. She kneads the couch with her paws and crouches down, eyes slowly closing. 

“Chris, hijo, wake up.” Eddie gently shakes Christopher’s shoulder until he’s blinking slowly awake – not unlike Rocky just a few moments ago.

“Dad?”

“Hey. You ready?”

“I’m tired.”

Buck can’t see Eddie’s face from the angle, but he hears a soft laugh from beneath the hood.

“Come on, buddy,” he says as he lifts Christopher from the couch and braces him against his side. 

There’s a sharp intake of breath before Christopher is shifted to the opposite side, and Buck tilts his head at Eddie.

“What was that?” Buck asks.

“What?”

“Are you okay?”

“I’m fine. You have his backpack?”

“Eddie, are you hurt?”

“Buck,” Eddie says, looking directly at him finally, “his backpack. Let’s go, it’s getting late I want to get him home.”

Buck only stares at him for a second longer before he moves and grabs the backpack from the chair across the room. He hands it off to Eddie.

“Thank you,” Eddie says, already halfway turned toward the door. 

“Sure,” Buck says. “Bye Chris!” he tries, but when Eddie has fully turned, Buck sees the Christopher’s eyes are already closed again as he leans on Eddie’s shoulder.

And then Buck is left for the second time that night staring at a closed door.

“Alright, let’s move, people! We’ve got a 10-60 at the Metro Rail Green Line at the Harbor Freeway Station.”

Bobby lists off details as the crew continues to file into the truck and, within twelve seconds of the original call, they’re pulling out of the firehouse and down the road.

Buck listens through his headset as Bobby goes on about the derailed train, twelve injured passengers, two fatal. He glances around the truck until – “where’s Lena?”

Hen looks at him from across the bench.

Chimney simply points over his shoulder toward the front of the truck.

Buck leans to the side and catches a glimpse of a blonde braid in the driver’s seat. He looks back at Hen, who simply shrugs.

“You need something Buckley?” Lena asks through the headset.

“No,” he answers as he grips the bench on a sharp turn. “No, I’m good.” He pushes away the odd feeling of Lena driving the truck. How much did he miss? 

The truck pulls up at the accident to find one of the cars of the train on its side. Rushing from the truck and following protocol is second nature and Buck immediately falls into rhythm with the rest of his team. This is how it’s supposed to be – this is where he belongs.

It’s not until Hen grabs his arm that Buck snaps out of it. “What?”

“He said Eddie and Lena,” she reminds him quietly.

“What? No, he…” Buck looks forward to see Eddie and Lena reaching the train car and getting to work on pulling off the roof of it to free the trapped passengers inside.

“Hen! I need a hand over here!” Chimney calls back. 

Hen drops her hand from Buck’s arm and jogs off to help Chimney assess a line of passengers waiting for medical attention.

Buck looks between the two pairs and then jogs back to Bobby. “Cap. Where do you need me?”

“Just wait here,” Bobby nods, eyes on Eddie and Lena as they drill the train car. “When they get that roof off, I’m gonna need you to move it out of the way so they can get the passengers out quickly. Then you can be on Rec.”

“Wait – Rec?” Buck steps to the side to block Bobby’s view so he’s looking directly at him now. “You want me to move shrapnel and take names?”

Bobby holds Buck’s gaze in silence for a moment before he speaks. “Buck, we’re not ranking positions right now. Our priority is getting these people out and to safety.”

“Yeah, and I can do that, Cap. I should be over there,” he points behind him to wear Lena pulls the drill back and pops another bolt out from the train. “I should be doing that. I’m not some new trainee that you need to hand a clipboard off to because they don’t know what they’re doing.”

“Buck,” Bobby says his name like a warning. “You’re on Rec for this call. Take it, or leave it and I’ll find someone else.”

Buck holds his gaze as sparks fly behind his eyes. He swerves around Bobby and snatches the clipboard from the Records Bag and walks over to the lineup. He glances over his shoulder once more to see Eddie grimacing as he peels back the roof of the train to unveil relieved cheers from inside. He turns forward to the man in front of him. “Name and date of birth?"

The firehouse is quiet as their day comes to an end and the 147 begins filing in to take up the shift. Buck nods a few hellos to some of them he hasn’t seen since he’s been back and then starts hanging his gear in his locker.

“Good job today, Buck,” Bobby says and claps a hand on his shoulder. “Remember – every job is important. It’s good to have you back.”

“Yeah,” Buck nods down to the name on the back of the jacket in his hands. _B U C K L E Y_. “Thanks, Cap.”

**

_[“A firefighter?” Jessi asks._

_“Yeah,” Buck smiles while fumbling with his tie. “I think that could be something good, you know?”_

_“You’re doing it wrong again,” she nods to his reflection in the mirror._

_Buck sighs and drops his hands to his sides. “Can you help?”_

_“You know you’re gonna have to learn to do this on your own one day, right?”_

_He smiles at her as he turns and lets her mess about with the tie. “Not if I become a firefighter.”_

_“No, I’m pretty sure they still wear ties sometimes.”_

_“Oh yeah, let me just throw on my suit beneath my gear to put out this fire. What am I? Clark Kent?”_

_“You wish,” she laughs and tightens the knot at his throat before leaning up to peck his cheek. “But isn’t that, like, an all hours of the night kind of job?”_

_Buck shrugs and turns to eye his reflection again. “I mean, yeah maybe. I think it just depends.”_

_“Why can’t you just choose something normal like a teacher?”_

_“A teacher?” he asks her reflection. “Why would I want to do that?”_

_“Well, you like kids. And it’s a normal nine-to-five job that-" _

_“Yeah, I don’t – I don’t want a normal nine-to-five job, Jess,” he laughs and turns to her. “I want to make a difference, you know? I want to make a name for myself. On my own.”_

_“You can still do that with a college degree.”_

_“Not when my parents are paying for it,” he mumbles to himself._

_“Why are you so against their help?”_

_“Because I don’t want them holding it over me like they’ve done every other thing in mine and Maddie’s lives.”_

_“I don’t get it,” Jessi shrugs. “You could make a difference in other ways with that education. You could be a lawyer. Or like, what about Med School? You could save lives that way." _

_“Jess, I’m not using their money. That’s final.”_

_Jessi shrugs. “Well, I mean, you’re gonna use my money when you’re on firefighter salary and I’m raking in checks from Rosen & Rosen but whatever makes you feel better.”_

_“What?” Buck pulls back from her._

_“I mean there’s no shame in it,” she shrugs. “I’m just saying, if you’re gonna be a firefighter, then statistically I’ll make more money than you in law. So, either you benefit from their money or you live off of mine.”_

_Buck steps back from her again and holds his hands up. “I can’t believe I’m hearing this right now.”_

_“What? I’m just being honest with you, Ev.”_

_Buck holds a hand up and mouths wordlessly for a moment before he can finally focus enough to form a sentence. “Money? And – and power? All that stuff you want? Your name on a building?” He swipes his arm across the air in front of them. “Nothing. It means nothing to me. I’m not basing my life – my future – off of a paycheck and level of recognition. My future? My future is going to be helping people. Saving them. Giving them a life they never thought they could have because they were so close to giving up. My future is going to be fighting for people who can’t fight for themselves anymore. And I don’t care if it means thirty-thousand dollars, ten-thousand dollars, or twenty dollars. You can’t put a price on living, Jess.”_

_“Well, unfortunately capitalism likes to do that, Ev, so when you come around to your senses, you let me know. Can we drop this now? I really don’t feel like arguing over dinner.” _

_Buck eyes her for another minute before he pulls at his tie. “No. No, I don’t think I’m hungry actually.”_

_“Evan." _

_“And besides,” he gestures to her, “I wouldn’t wanna make you spend more of your precious money. So, please. Keep it in your bank account. I’m gonna spend the night at Nick’s.” _

_“Evan, what the hell?”_

_Before he could hear the rest of her declaration, the door closes behind him and he’s already halfway down the apartment hall.]_

**

He runs his thumb over the name again.

_B U C K L E Y_

There’s an echoing bang that gunshots through Buck as polymer and plastic bounces off the floor to his right. It’s followed by a murmured Spanish something that sounds oddly close to the way Buck will often utter _motherfucker_ beneath his breath.

Eddie swipes up his helmet and slams it back onto the shelf in his locker. He shifts his gaze a bit and meets Buck’s.

Buck pulls his gaze away and hangs his coat in the locker in exchange for his denim civvy jacket. He grabs his keys from the top shelf and tucks his phone in his pocket and glances at Eddie once more before walking off, but Eddie’s got his eyes closed probably focusing on something else. So, Buck just murmurs a “see you.”

“Mm. Yeah.”

Buck pauses. He replays the gritted sound in his head and turns back around to face Eddie, who now has one arm braced on the side of his locker, the other on his side.

“Eddie? You alright?”

“I’m fine.” 

Buck glances around them, but there’s no one from their crew left. Geo from the one-forty-seven is dropping stuff off in his own locker, but it’s far enough away where he would hardly even notice the two of them standing there. “Eddie, what happened to your side?” 

“I said I’m fine, Buck,” Eddie grits out again, this time turning to make sure Buck is listening.

“Yeah, I know what you said,” Buck says, stepping forward. “I’m pretty familiar with the phrase. Lift your shirt.”

“Are you kidding me right now?” 

“What?” Buck chances. “You can show up at my house at eight o’clock in the morning tearing blankets off me and forcing me to leave the house but I can’t take a look at your side?”

Eddie blinks at him. “No,” he says finally, “you can’t.” He pulls his jacket from the locker and takes his keys from the small hook inside and turns away, leaving the firehouse and leaving Buck splintering behind him.

“I just don’t know,” Buck shakes his head, holding the phone to his ear. “It’s like some days I feel like I’m part of the team again, right? Nothing happened. We’re all joking and laughing and Cap’s cooking us dinner. But then, I don’t know, something flips suddenly and it’s like they all suddenly forget who I am. They forget everything I’ve done.”

“Hm,” Maddie hums, “I actually think the problem is that they remember what you’ve done.”

“No, they’ve moved past that. They had to have.”

“I mean, you tried to sue them. It’s a difficult thing to move past, it’s gonna take time.”

“Well how much time?”

“I don’t know.”

“I just want it to be how it was already.” Buck chews on his lip, memories of the one-eighteen floating in his vision. “I just want it to be normal again.”

“Evan, I don’t know what you want me to say,” Maddie’s voice sighs through the phone.

“I don’t know, Mads,” Buck gestures wildly in the middle of his kitchen, “tell me – tell me everything’s gonna be okay or that he’s just going through something or this will pass!”

Maddie coughs lightly into the phone.

“What?” Buck snaps.

“You, um,” she pauses, and Buck thinks he can hear her smiling as she says, “you said ‘he’.”

Buck blinks at the space in his kitchen, not really seeing anything in front of him. “What? No I didn’t.”

“Uh, yes you did.” And now she’s definitely smiling, laughing lightly.

“No. What? Why would I say he? I said ‘they,’ obviously. They as a group. Why would I specifically be talking about Eddie? Aren’t you supposed to be good at listening? Your job kinda depends on it, no?”

“Um, yeah. Yeah, it does. Which is why I also just heard you say Eddie’s name without me having even brought him up.”

Buck blinks at an old red wine stain on his counter as he runs through the conversation in his head. Did he really just say Eddie’s name? Did he say ‘he’? There’s no way he slipped up. Not that it’s a slip-up. There’s nothing to slip on there. So what if he’s concerned about his best friend? That’s normal. Maddie has no reason to be giving him a hard time for this. 

“Ev, as much as I love listening to you mouth-breathe into the phone, I need to get back to work.” 

“Yeah,” is all he says.

“Call you later!”

“Yeah.”

Admittedly, Buck has been focusing a lot on what’s been going on with Eddie, so to him it doesn’t come out of nowhere when he asks Hen and Chimney if they’ve noticed anything off about him lately.

Hen eyes him for a minute before she sighs and rests a hand on her hip. “What’s this now?”

“I mean, like, have you noticed him acting different lately? Distant?”

Hen exchanges an unconvinced glance with Chimney.

Chimney, to his credit, turns to Buck. “Wait, you mean keeping his distance, staying quiet, not talking about himself or his personal life and generally just being on his own?”

Buck brightens. “Yeah! Exactly!”

“Oh!” Chimney nods. “Then no, nothing different at all.”

Buck rolls his eyes and deflates. “I’m serious, guys. I think something’s up with him.”

“Listen, Buck,” Hen sighs, “he was pretty messed up over the whole… incident.”

“Yeah, I get that. But that’s over. I mean, you’ve forgiven me, right? Cap’s forgiven me.”

“We have, but I don’t know,” Hen shakes her head. “Like I said, he’s not really an open book. Me and Chim? We were never as close with Eddie as you were. It’s not like he was running up to us to talk about his day and he didn’t start when you were gone.”

“Why don’t you try talking to him?” Chimney asks.

“I’ve tried. He won’t listen.” Buck shakes his head. “I just have a strange feeling – like something’s going on that he’s keeping from us.”

“Something bad?” Hen asks.

“I don’t know,” Buck shakes his head and looks out across the firehouse to where Eddie is helping Lena with drills. He narrows his eyes as something slowly clicks into place. “But I think I know someone who might.”

Bucks slams his palm against the door and it swings open with a bang against the wall. “Bosko.”

Lena looks up at him from the bench she’s sitting on and raises a brow.

Buck swallows. “That…that was harder than I meant it to be.”

Lena blinks, unimpressed.

Buck shakes it off and continues, sense of force and fury behind him once more. “Listen, we need to talk.”

“Oka-”

“No,” he says. “No interruptions, just listen.”

“Yeah, I’m gonna give you five seconds to readjust your attitude otherwise the talking is done.” She stands and flexes her hands at her sides.

Buck works his jaw over his words for a minute and then lowers his voice in an attempt to be civil. “I don’t know who you think you are-”

“Start over.” 

Buck bites down and coughs once to clear his throat. He takes a deep breath and exhales and when he speaks now, his voice is calm. “I was hoping we could talk.”

She eyes him for a minute before sitting back down on the bench and nodding to the space next to her. “Yeah, sure. Think we kind of got off on the wrong foot anyway.”

Buck tilts his head. “To be fair, I _did_ break my ankle.”

She stares at him.

“Okay,” he exhales and walks over to the bench to sit. “I’ll save the jokes for another time.” He takes another breath and stares ahead at the lockers. “What’s going on with Eddie?" 

It’s a moment before Lena responds. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I haven’t been here for a while and you seem to be the closest with him now. I’m sure he tells you things. I’m just trying to get caught up on everything now that I’m back.”

“And you’re asking me instead of him,” Lena confirms.

Buck turns to give her a flat look.

“Because he won’t talk to you,” Lena says, understanding flashing across her features. She shifts in her seat and exhales a long breath. “I mean, it’s not like he’s having therapy sessions with me every day either. For the record.”

“Yeah, but he still talks to you.”

“He does,” Lena reasons.

Buck doesn’t bother to fight the constricting pain he feels in his chest at this. He talks to Lena. Buck’s not his go-to anymore, even if he is back. And he did it to himself.

“Look, he mentioned he was a bit stressed about his son?” Lena shrugs.

“Christopher?” Buck turns to her. “What happened with Christopher? Is he alright?”

Lena holds her hands up in defense. “I don’t know much about it. Honestly, I’ve never even met the kid so all I know is what Eddie happens to say while beating his frustration out into a punching bag,” she laughs dryly.

Some modicum of relief seeps into Buck’s bones: _she hasn’t met Christopher._

“Alright,” Buck nods. “So – so Christopher. Anything else?”

“Well,” Lena looks up at him skeptically, like she’s debating keeping something from him. She finally exhales and gives in. “I think he misses having you around, to be honest. And if you repeat this to him I’ll re-break that ankle of yours, but I knew your name long before I even met you.”

Buck continues to watch her, keeping his questions at bay.

“I’m not promising they were all good things,” she laughs. “He told me you tried to battle him for dominance the first day.”

“I what?” Buck sits back a bit.

“Something about some calendar?” 

Buck drops his gaze and clears his throat. “Well, that was… I mean, out of context…”

“I really don’t care to know what it was about. But he also said how you dropped everything to help him – not only that day, but multiple times.”

Buck swallows and stares at the floor. A grenade in someone’s leg, a microwave cemented on a boy’s head underwater, the eleventh floor of a broken building in the midst of earthquake aftershocks. All of it rushed through Buck’s bones, little shockwaves of memories.

“Think he’s a bit bent out of shape because he doesn’t have you around to talk with. I mean, yeah, he’s got me for now, but it’s not the same.” Lena shakes her head. “I had someone on my old team. Two years ago. No questions asked – he would be there whenever I needed him. And not just at the job, but outside of it too. When my fiancé and I separated, when I couldn’t find a place to live for months at a time,” she laughs dryly, “when my hamster died.”

“I’m sorry,” Buck says softly. “For all of that.”

Lena shrugs. “It’s life. You know, we work in this line of business and it’s all emergencies, right? Life or death situations – an elevator collapsing or- or someone drowning. A four-alarm fire with a family stuck inside.” Lena shrugs. “Sometimes we tend to push other emergencies in our own lives to the side.”

Buck holds her gaze for a minute before he nods, almost imperceptibly.

“Diaz doesn’t need apologies from you anymore. He just needs you.”

Buck takes a breath and then shakes his head. “I don’t even know how to reach him. I tried talking to him the other day and he just… shut me down. Left without even saying anything. I tried calling him the other night and no answer. It’s not like we were working. I mean, it was almost midnight on a Saturday, so maybe he was sleeping, but he always wakes up if his phone rings.”

Lena suddenly turns and furrows her brow. She seems lost in thought for a minute, and Buck is about to ask when she snaps her gaze back up to him. “I think I might know where you can reach him.”

“Yeah?”

Lena looks at him painfully. “I don’t promise you’re gonna like it.”

The smell of gasoline and beer hits him first before they even get out of the car. Lena parks a good distance away from where Buck can see silhouettes in the headlights of cars, a crowd of them and cheering bouncing off against the aluminum.

She cuts the engine and they step out of the car, but they don’t walk to the crowd.

“What is this?” Buck asks, squinting into the distance.

“Exactly what it looks like.” Lena tucks her hands into the pockets of her jacket and nods off to the side. “Come with me.”

Buck glances confusedly at her and back to the crowd before following her down the row of cars. 

“I found this place when I first moved out here,” she explains. “It was a good way for me to release the demons that stayed with me from work.”

“A fight club?” Buck turns to her. “You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“Hey. Don’t judge. We all have our vices.”

“Street fighting? That’s the dumbest thing I’ve heard." 

“Worse than alcoholism? Drug addiction? Thrill-seeking?”

Buck bites his lip. He’s skeptical, but he drops it. He doesn’t need to inform Lena of his past sex addiction. He doesn’t really need to inform anyone about that. 

“Listen, we have our therapist, right? The company provided one? Have you ever gone?”

Buck doesn’t answer.

“Well, it’s a load of shit,” Lena continues. “I mean, that’s a bit harsh. Some people actually get a lot of help from it, but…” she shrugs. “Sometimes it’s not enough.” She slows in her walking and puts a hand out to stop Buck.

“Why are we stopping?”

She nods forward toward the group.

They’re still quite a distance away, but close enough that in the beams of a Toyota Tacoma’s headlights, Buck can make out a familiar face.

Almost familiar.

There’s something haunting about the way Eddie looks in the haze. A trickle of blood drips from a cut by his scalp and there’s a purple bruise taking up the entirety of his right side, across his rib cage and down to his hipbone. His arms are held up, fists in front of his face as a line of defense – or as weapons. 

Buck hasn’t decided which is the better of the two. Or, if there even is one.

He watches Eddie dance on his toes back and forth, eyes set on a stranger’s face in front of him.

“Who is he fighting?” Buck asks quietly.

Lena shrugs. “Names aren’t important here. None of us are fighting each other. That guy in front of Diaz? Might as well be some man he failed to save from a building, some brother in the army he lost, the driver of the vehicle that killed his wife.” She shrugs. “It could be anything that harms Christopher. Those faceless nightmares he’s been having.”

Buck swallows as he watches Eddie duck beneath a punch. 

He spins and brings himself up with a fist that meets the faceless opponent’s jaw in an uppercut. He bounces back and they’re eyeing each other across the circle again.

“Last week it was you,” Lena says so low that Buck almost doesn’t hear it.

He finally tears his gaze from the group and looks at her. “What?”

She looks up at him. “Not in the way that it sounds. He wasn’t… it’s not like he wants to fight you or hurt you.”

Buck turns and looks back at the fight as Eddie lands another fist to the person’s ribs, followed by a kick to the same spot.

“It’s always the situations we’re fighting here - not the people.”

Buck slowly shakes his head as the stranger lands a punch to Eddie’s bruised side and he folds over. “You can’t… this isn’t right.” He moves to step forward but Lena grabs his wrist.

“If you go in there to get him, he won’t stop. Trust me, I know. I’m in that ring more often than not. You’re not seeing the people around you. He’s not in this parking lot anymore. He’s in his head.”

Buck pulls his gaze away and rips his arm from her grasp. He turns on his heel and starts back toward the car. “Get me the fuck out of here.”

“Thanks again, Bobby.” Buck says, handing off the backpack to him. “I really appreciate it.”

“It’s no problem at all,” Bobby smiles and turns back to where Christopher is sitting on the couch next to Harry, who has successfully upended an entire box of Legos onto the floor. “I’ve got plenty of snacks and movies to keep him busy and happy.”

“I promise I won’t be long.”

“Buck, it’s fine,” Bobby insists. “If it’s this important to you, then I can watch Christopher." 

Buck nods. “Trust me, Bobby. It’s important.”

“Then go.”

Buck smiles another thank you, peeks in once more to see Christopher plenty distracted, and then jogs back off to his car.

Buck vaguely wonders if it’s possible to bang so hard on a door that your fist will bruise, but he doesn’t have to wonder for long.

The door is yanked open by a very confused Eddie. The gap between his anger, confusion and then fear is minuscule and within seconds he’s asking, “what happened? Where is he?” 

“Christopher’s fine,” Buck says right away. “He’s with Bobby right now.”

“Why? What’s going on?”

“Eddie, breathe. Nothing is wrong.”

Eddie seems to be working to come down from the sudden rush of fear that’s spiked through him and he steps backward into the house. “Um, okay. Okay. What – uh… come in. Come in.”

Buck steps into the house and softly closes the door behind him. 

Eddie runs a hand down his face and then looks up at Buck. “What’s going on?”

“I, uh… wanted to ask you the same thing, actually.”

“What?” 

Buck bites his lip and considers his words. The fifteen-minute drive over here was spent mapping out a script in his head. And now everything was gone.

“Buck, what’s up?”

“Did… did something happen to you? While I was…” Buck trails off, unsure where to go from there.

“You mean while you were gone? While you were suing us? While you were choosing your own job over us?”

“Eddie, please don’t.”

“Don’t what? Call it like it is?” Eddie turns and leads him into the kitchen. He pulls out a beer and offers it to Buck.

Buck shakes his head. “Eddie, I apologized for that. And I know it’s not enough, and it won’t be enough for a long time, but I need you to put that aside for a minute and talk to me.”

“Talk to you about what?” 

“You.”

Eddie eyes him for a moment in silence.

Buck exhales. “I know why you asked me to watch Christopher tonight." He swallows. "I know about the fight club.”

Something twitches in Eddie’s face, but he doesn’t give in.

“The one down by San Vicente.”

“The business district?”

“Down by sixth. You know what I’m talking about, Eddie, don’t do this.”

Eddie lifts his head just a bit but doesn’t respond.

“So,” Buck continues, “do you want to tell me what it is you’re fighting?" 

“Thought you said you already know about it.”

“I know that you go there. I never said I knew why.”

“Yeah, well, you wouldn’t. Would you? I mean, it’s not like I could tell you what with you-“

“Eddie, drop it.”

Eddie narrows his eyes just slightly.

Buck’s veins surge with frustration that he works to dampen. “I get it, okay? I messed up. I was selfish, I was stupid, I was…whatever you wanna call it. But you know what? It’s over. It’s done. I’m not asking you to forgive me and I’m not asking you to pretend it never happened. I’m just asking you to stop using it as an excuse for you to push me away. I know I wasn’t here. I know you couldn’t talk to me. But guess what? I’m here now. So whatever excuse you were using for street fighting? It’s gone now.” Buck holds his gaze for a moment. “Start talking.”

Eddie finally pulls his gaze away and takes a breath. “What do you wanna know?”

“I want to know what the hell it is you’re fighting out there.”

“We all need release, Buck. Others just do it differently, that’s all. I’m not in any real danger there and neither is anyone else.” 

“Yeah? Because I’m pretty sure your side isn’t supposed to be the color it is.”

“What? You’ve never gotten bruised on the job before?”

“Yeah, Eddie, I have. I’ve shattered bone on the job, in case you've forgotten. The difference is that I did it saving people, not fighting them. I didn’t go looking for pain.”

“I’m not trying to get hurt, Buck. I’m trying to get it out of me.”

“What is so painful that you have to beat it into some drunken stranger in an abandoned lot?”

“Have you looked around, Buck?” Eddie laughs dryly. “Everything we do is painful. Every person we lose, every nightmare, every failed attempt at a rescue.”

“No,” Buck shakes his head. “You’ve been doing this job long enough, you’ve been in the Army. You’re telling me it’s just getting to you now?”

Eddie shrugs. “It’s not just me.”

Buck waits for him to continue. 

“It’s been getting to Christopher.”

“Christopher,” Buck says, almost a question.

Eddie sighs and opens one of the beers on the counter. “He’s been dreaming about Shannon.”

Buck lets a small wave of understanding crash over him. “That’s… that’s tough. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.”

“But Eddie, that’s not… Christopher doesn’t need you disappearing at night to go fight these people, he needs you home. He needs you.”

“Yeah, and I needed you!” Eddie snaps his gaze back up. “I… I had no one. No one who knows Christopher like you do, no one who knows me like you do. He was having nightmares of that tsunami and I thought: well I’ll have him talk to Buck. They went through it together, and I know Buck will get him through it.” Eddie shrugs. “Because you always have when it comes to Christopher. He loves you, Buck. He’s never been able to connect with someone like he has with you. And when he needed you the most – when _I_ needed you the most – you weren’t around.”

Buck feels a muscle feather in his jaw, but doesn’t speak. 

“I tried a therapist for him, I tried talking with my aunt. But I didn’t need someone to tell me what to do or what to say to him, I just needed someone who would get it. Someone who could say, ‘yeah, I understand,’ and not because they could empathize but because they went through it.” Eddie sighs and leans back onto the counter. “I get you were angry about the job. I do. And… and to be honest, I don’t really care about it anymore. The whole trial, whatever.” He shrugs. “It happened, it’s done, it’s over.”

Buck allows a small bit of relief to rush through him.

Eddie runs a hand over his hair and then drops it to his side. “I just didn’t realize how much it’d suck not having you around. And it did. For both me and Christopher.”

Bucks clears his throat quietly and when it seems like Eddie is done, he speaks up. “So how did you end up here?”

Eddie shrugs. “Lena brought me. She told me she’d go there some nights to let off steam after a particularly bad shift.”

Buck watches him as his features shift over unspoken thoughts.

“Guess I just started seeing it as a release for more than just work.”

“Eddie-”

“I know it’s stupid, Buck. But, I didn’t know what else to do. It was like I finally had an opportunity to actually fight – to win. All those battles lost, all those people lost in emergencies that we couldn’t save. I finally had a chance to win.” He looks up at Buck. “And it felt damn good to win them when I only ever knew what it felt like to lose them.”

Buck feels his chest buckle, but he steps forward gently. “Eddie, I get it. I do. It’s like a redo or… or a redemption. I know what it’s like to crave that and have a chance to feel that.”

Eddie nods.

Buck shakes his head. “But, I also learned a long time ago that you can’t fight ghosts.”

The air shifts between them as Eddie’s gaze slowly sinks down – not like relief, not like acceptance. It’s defeat.

“We lose,” Buck continues. “We lose every day. Whether it’s a call gone wrong, or a late response, or a nightmare we can’t shake, or hell – a stupid parking ticket we didn't budget for. We lose. But we can’t do anything about that. You came into this job knowing you would lose a percentage of calls every day. I know that because I came into this job knowing the same thing. And it’s not just the job. Christopher’s having nightmares? Yeah, he is. And he’s gonna have them again. And he’s gonna get his heart broken, and he’s gonna learn loss again, and these things are going to keep happening to him. What’s your response gonna be then?”

Eddie runs his hands down his face. “I know. I know it’s stupid. I’ve said that.”

“Then why are you still doing it?”

“I didn’t know where else to go.”

Buck looks around them and opens his arms wide. “I’m here, Eddie. I’m back.”

Eddie lifts his gaze up to him.

“Go to me.”

Eddie chews the inside of his lip. “There’s only one problem with that.”

Buck gestures for him to continue.

Eddie takes a deep breath and guilt flashes across his features. “I think I’m kind of stuck in it.”

“What do you mean? Like some contract?” Buck tilts his head. “Though, that place seems more like a blood oath type of deal.”

“No, Buck,” Eddie laughs a bit dryly. “I mean… I don’t want to stop.”

“What do you mean? Like... Like some sort of an addiction to it?”

Eddie drops his gaze. “It’s not just ghosts, you know? It’s not just moments I’m fighting. I’m fighting myself.”

Buck steps forward again as realization dawns on him. “You think you deserve it?”

Eddie shrugs. “Sometimes.”

Buck nods and drops his gaze. “So, what do we have to do to convince you that you don’t?” He looks up again to see Eddie shake his head. “Okay. Well, we’ll just have to figure something out, yeah?”

Eddie finally looks up and meets his gaze again. His body seems to shift a bit. 

It takes a moment, but Buck recognizes it as relief and letting go, and then he feels the same liberation in his own body.

Eddie reaches forward and lands a gentle fist to Buck’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re back, asshole.”

A soft laugh breaks out from Buck’s chest. “Listen, if that’s the way you’re punching at this fight club we might need to work a bit on that.”

“I mean it,” Eddie continues through his own laughter. “It’s… it’s really friggin good to have you back.”

Buck quirks his mouth up in a small smile and then tugs Eddie forward into an embrace. “Yeah, well,” he murmurs into his shoulder, “now that I’m back can you leave all the dumb decisions to me again?”

Eddie laughs against him and then steps back. “You can have your throne back.”

“Throne?” Buck laughs. “Wow, do I get a crown too?" 

“Don’t push it.”

Buck matches Eddie’s smirk with his own and he thinks they’re going to be alright after all. It’ll take time and it’ll be messy, but they’ll get there. There’s no sense in fighting hypotheticals and trying to hurt ghosts of mistakes, but maybe they can fight for something better. 

**Author's Note:**

> * a 10-60 is a code for Major Emergency Response (what a cool bonus having firefighting friends and family that I get to text with random out-of-context questions skjfngjf)
> 
> \- I have feelings about Eddie speaking spanish but then again don't we all
> 
> \- I noticed Chimney is constantly chewing gum/popcorn/snacks and that’s permanently how I imagine him now. So. Have that.
> 
> \- Everyone needs Buck and a kitten
> 
> \- Took some liberty with Buck's past oops maybe if Tim Minear would stop being a coward and give us Buck Begins I wouldn't have to make things up
> 
> \- Buck has a denim jacket because we love bi rep in this house
> 
> talk to me on twitter about 9-1-1! @buckleystrand


End file.
